


All Is Violent, All Is Bright

by met_a_mawr_fuh_sis



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Drama, Established Relationship, F/M, Horror, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-16
Updated: 2015-02-12
Packaged: 2018-03-07 18:48:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3179225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/met_a_mawr_fuh_sis/pseuds/met_a_mawr_fuh_sis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Walking Dead retold through the eyes of Beth Greene.  Beth is living in Atlanta when she meets Daryl Dixon and their relationship begins.  One week, that's how long it took the world to crumble.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> There are mentions of suicide in the first chapter so please be aware of that. I'm planning on updating once a week. I hope you like it and that I do the characters justice. This is my second foray into writing for The Walking Dead.
> 
> Some major events will stay the same but there will be quite a bit (a lot) of divergence. I have this outlined through the end of Season 2 but if the spirit moves me I'll take it farther.

 

 

  


Beth Greene spent the first eighteen years of her life on her family's farm. Her Daddy said that the land had been in their family for nigh on six generations. The land, he said, was in their blood, running in their veins, singing in their capillaries. Her Daddy was a bit of a poet. She rode horses, learnt to make pie crust from scratch, and memorized the feeling of rich earth crumbling though her fingers. She laughed with her sister, loved her Mamma, hugged her Daddy, and teased her brother. In the summer she ate peaches til she was set to burst and on Saturdays she ushered groups of school children on tours of the dairy and the hatchery. Beth helped bring new life into the world when it was foaling season, read cheesy romance novels, and sung in the church choir.

When she was twelve she let Jimmy McCune kiss her. She let him stick around after that too. She liked the feeling of his hand in hers and besides she had known him practically forever. Beth knew it wasn't love but she thought maybe it was good enough for high school. Sometimes she let herself daydream about moving up to Nashville where she would play her guitar for groups of sparkling strangers in dim bars. In her mind's eye Beth could see her life stretched out behind her. Her childhood was bright, golden, full of love and wildflowers and picnics, but there were flickers of darkness lurking there too, black shadows that threatened to reach out and pull her under.

When Beth was seven she almost drowned in the mill pond. She knew that she wasn't supposed to be swimming on her own, knew she'd get in trouble, but it had been hot and the water had looked so cool and inviting. She had dipped her toes in first and then waded in, liking the feel of the water wrapping around her, smooth like her Mamma's silk robe. She had kept going out into the deep, treading the water with her little arms, just like Otis had shown her earlier that summer. But then she had gotten tired and had started towards the shore but her body had failed her. Turned out she had gone out a lot farther then she had meant too.

Suddenly she was under the surface, eyes open, gazing out into murky gradated green and blue. It had been peaceful, perfectly still, almost like she had been placed between two panes of glass and pressed there, hung, preserved in the silence of the water. Being under the water hadn't hurt a bit, it was lovely, dark, and serene. The bottom of the pond looked like a forest in miniature, rich foliage swaying in the breeze of the current. She maybe would have liked to stay there, but when her face burst above the surface and her lungs began to take ragged gulping breaths of fiery air... well that had hurt something fierce. Maggie had been the one to pull her out. She could still remember the panicked look in her big sister's glass green eyes as she dragged her limp body onto the bank. She hadn't been scared until then and after that she didn't go swimming for a long time.

When Beth was ten her Granny, her Mamma's mamma, was diagnosed with Alzheimer's. She had faded pretty fast after that. They had gone to see her a couple of times, only to find her staring out the same window at the old folk's home. She hadn't know them, even when Beth had clambered up into her lap, pressed her hands to her Granny's cool papery cheeks, and looked into eyes that were the exact color of her own. There had been no recognition, no spark of memory, only endless pale blue that had somehow reminded Beth of when she had been underwater, that day when she was seven. Cool, serene, lovely, but empty. Beth knew then that her Granny was gone. They had gone to the funeral six months later. Everyone had cried but Beth, she had grieved a season before.

Her Mamma and Shawn died when Beth was sixteen. They had been coming back from a football game and the roads had been slick from an ice-storm. The police officers who had come to the door said that it had been instant, that they hadn't felt any pain. It was a kind thing to say but Beth thought that it had rang untrue. Things were a bit of a blur after that, no matter how hard she thought about it she couldn't remember all of what had happened. She couldn't remember the funeral or if she had remembered to make sure her Mamma was buried wearing her favorite dress. She had never seen her Daddy cry before and she had never seen Maggie so angry. It was like they didn't even know each other, all locked away in their own grief, wandering through the pain on their own, like they were dead too, but still walking. Beth only remembered feeling empty, void, the world and her faith falling away until she was stuck in some in-between space. Not living, not dead, not breathing, not drowning, suspended. She might have like to stay in that in-between, been content there like she had been under the water of the mill pond, but the mirror had shattered and there had been blood on the bathroom sink and on the floor and on her jeans and just everywhere and lord it hurt. It burned and her knees had felt weak as she yelled her sister's name, red rushing from her wrist.

After that she managed to graduate high school and broke up with Jimmy when he wouldn't stop looking at her like she was gonna break, like she was still bleeding. She moved to Atlanta, bracelets ringing her scarred wrist. Maggie had said that she could move in with her and Herschel hadn't wanted her to leave the farm at all. Beth didn't listen. She rented out a crappy apartment in a bad part of town and found a roommate and a job as a waitress at a rundown diner. Her apartment was small and drafty and her roommate was sweet, if a bit loud. She started to pull herself back together piece by piece, started singing again, started baking pies, and planted a tiny herb garden on the ledge of the fire escape outside her apartment window. She got stronger, a little more sure of herself. She tried to put it all away. And then she had met Daryl Dixon.

Beth took one look at him and saw herself before the mirror shattered. She saw the same trapped look, saw someone hanging in the balance, in the in-between. He walked right into the diner and slid into a spot in her section at the counter. He was all lanky grace, coiled muscle, and sharp blue eyes. There was dirt under his cracked and bitten fingernails and he smelled like cigarette smoke. His beard was patchy and rough and his flannel shirt needed mending but Beth thought that he was kinda beautiful and more then a little lost. She had chatted his ear off, pouring him at least three cups of coffee, and burning his toast. She had told him her name and about the farm and for some reason she had told him about how her Mamma had liked to sing in the kitchen while she was doing dishes. He had hardly looked at her, only spoke in grunts, and left a few crumpled dollars for her tip.

She thought fore sure that she would never seem him again but he was back the next day sitting in the same spot, biting at his thumbnail. She told him more and more about her life and she managed to wring his name out of him. Daryl Dixon. She learned that he had an older brother and that he liked to go out into the country to hunt when he could. The other waitresses began to tease her about him once he had shown up everyday for two weeks and she knew at least one of them was jealous, which she kind of liked.

And then one day he hadn't come. Beth had waited as time ticked by. She left work feeling absolutely miserable and disappointed and she was furious at herself for feeling that way. She hardly knew the man, didn't really know anything concrete about him, just his name really. But in the end, after walking the long way home and a lot of angry muttering, she finally had to admit to herself that she had a crush on a thirty something biker who wore a cut with angel wings sewn onto the back. She thought it was something to do with his eyes and how they would kind of shine out at her when she said something that he thought was funny, or how his lips would quirk up just a little, or how his fingers would brush hers just so when she refilled his coffee, sending an electric zing up her spine.

He was gone for eight days. Eight long,dull tedious days. When he came back he slid into his regular seat and raised his eyes to hers almost sheepishly. They had just looked at each other for a long moment until he looked away. Beth clutched at her forgotten coffee pot. “Brother came back into town, had to help him out with some stuff,” he had mumbled looking back at her again.

“Oh,” she had breathed and then poured him some coffee. She hoped he hadn't noticed that her hands were trembling. Swallowing her pride and summoning her courage she had asked him to come see her sing at a local coffee shop that night. He hadn't said anything for a long moment and then just grumbled maybe. They hadn't really talked much after that but she could feel his eyes on her hot and steady as she moved across the diner.

Beth hadn't let herself hope that he would come. When she saw him at the back of the coffee shop she had to fight to keep the waver out of her voice. He looked so nervous, so out of place, shuffling from one foot the other, hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans. And then afterwards she had come up to him, grinning from ear to ear, and he had led her out back to the alleyway, pressed her up against the brick wall, and kissed her. Kissed her and kissed her and kissed her and she had never felt so happy in her entire life.

After that there had been a lot of fights and a lot of making up, a lot of miss-communication, sullen looks interspersed with wide smiles, and flash fire kisses. Daryl Dixon was never going to be what one would call a romantic, never going to take her out to some fancy uptown dinner or write her poetry. He wasn't a wordsmith. He never told her she was beautiful but he didn't need too. She could tell by how he looked at her, how he swept his rough fingers across her soft skin. Daryl was more likely to bring her venison then chocolates and sometimes he closed himself off so thoroughly she despaired of ever truly knowing him. But bit by bit they fell into each other and it wasn't always easy but it was always worth it.

It took two months for her to tell him about the scar on her wrist, pulling back her bracelets so he could see the long jagged length of it. It took him four to let her fully see the marks that crisscrossed his back. It took her even longer to convince him that she was there to stay. She wasn't going anywhere and that she loved him. She knew he still struggled with it, could see it in his eyes sometimes, could tell when he got frustrated, could see that he couldn't understand why she was still sticking around. But they got by, and they were happy.

Daryl Dixon looked at her like she was strong, like she was sunshine, bright and light and precious. And she was. Around him she was everything that she wanted to be. With him she broke the surface of her past, came up for air for the first time in a long time. He told her once that that being with her had burned him up. Like her love had cleansed him. She knew what he was talking about. They had both been consumed by things in their past, nearly destroyed, but they had both come out the other side. They weren't ashes.

Maggie about blew a gasket when she found out. There had been a lot of yelling and a lot of fluttering hands and a lot of _'what's Daddy going to say.'_ Maggie had accused Daryl of using Beth, of taking advantage, told her she was too young to know what love was and that she was being stupid and naive. The final straw for Beth had been when Maggie had mumbled something about how he would more then likely end up beating her and she didn't want to see Beth come home with bruises. They had fought then, loud and long, Greene spitting fire at Greene until they both guttered out. Beth had left slamming the door of Maggie's apartment behind her. They didn't talk for three weeks after that no matter how many times Daryl urged Beth to call or visit. Eventually though, after Maggie began to see how good Daryl was for Beth and how very good Beth was for Daryl she apologized to both of them. Beth had accepted the apology with a fair amount of grace. Daryl told Beth later that Maggie had taken him aside afterwards and threatened to skewer him with a pitchfork if he ever hurt her baby sister. They both believed her.

Telling her Daddy that she was in love (because that's surely what it was) with a redneck biker nearly twice her age wasn't something that Beth had ever imagined she would have to do. But she did it. It had gone about as well as she could have expected. He hadn't yelled or made a scene, just sat there and listened his lips set into a firm line of disapproval. She hated to disappoint her Daddy and that's all she had seen in his face that day but he came around, quicker then Maggie truth be told. Her Daddy had suffered under his own fair share of abuse, seen how anger and resentment could warp and twist people if they let it. Hershel had fought and barely won against his own demons and he found it impossible to judge a man who was clearly trying to put his past behind him.

The night Beth had met Merle he had grinned at her like the Cheshire Cat, slapping Daryl on the back, crowing about his baby brother had finally got himself a damn fine piece of ass. His eyes had been wary though as they ran up and down her body, sharp and piercing and Beth thought that maybe Merle could see all the way down into her soul, could see the mirror shattering and the blood on the bathroom floor. If her Daddy's talent was seeing the good in people then Merle Dixon's was seeing the weakness in them. She had trembled under his gaze but only for a moment. After that she had took Daryl's hand and firmly told Merle to fuck off. The words had felt foreign on her tongue but they had made Merle smile, toothy and almost charming, but the wariness didn't leave his eyes. Merle was an asshole but deep down he loved his baby brother, maybe even more fiercely then Beth did.

So it went. Beth stayed working at the diner and signed up for classes the next semester at the community college, just gen ed stuff mainly, until she figured out what she wanted to do. She thought she might like to be a music teacher. Daryl started doing odd jobs around town. He started running after Merle less and less, told Beth that he was trying to put that part of his life behind him She never pushed him about that though, knew that was something he had to decide on his own. He still got angry sometimes and she still got sad too but they were good together. It was spring and everything was fresh and new and heating up. Sometimes they just sat out on her tiny fire escape and talked until they fell asleep, her head against his shoulder. They were good, they were so good. Beth could see her future spread out in front of her, a winding golden road with ups and downs, peaks and valleys. She knew Daryl would walk it with her. The only thing Beth couldn't foresee was the goddamn zombie apocalypse.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the reviews! This is a long one. Let's see if Beth can get out of Atlanta!

Everything happened so fast. It started as just a small story, not even a headline, just some banal looking reporter sitting at a desk talking about an influx of flu, high fever, cough, some nausea. The sickness was sweeping the nation and every other nation. No one paid attention though. The news reported more of the same on the following day and the next one after that. Still no one was overly alarmed. Herschel called and told Beth to go get a flu shot. And then a week later came the first reports of causalities in Georgia.

 

One week, that's how long it took the world to crumble.

 

People started getting sick, really sick, and then they turned, turned into something no one had ever seen before. They became violent and uncontrollable. Beth's boss called and told her not to come into work until the whole thing blew over, there weren't any customers anyway. Beth wasn't so sure it was going to blow over. The city began quarantine all the hospitals and set up barricades. All the news channels said that scientists were racing for a cure.

 

Seven days and civilization fell.

 

Beth sat on the couch, watching the static that now filled the TV screen; her fingers worrying at the jewelry around her wrist, tracing the dangling arrow that Daryl had found for her charm bracelet. The TV had stopped working properly the day before, it just came on in short bursts now. The last broadcast had told people to stay in their homes, not to panic. Ironically they had then cut to a long sweeping shot of the traffic jam that stretched outside of Atlanta. Every major highway was blocked with people trying to leave the city. Supposedly the national guard was being brought in and they were going to begin to evacuate people in a more... 'orderly fashion', whatever that meant.

The internet wasn't a much better source of information; service was spotty at best and Beth hadn't gleaned much more then what the news was telling her. She had seen some pictures she would rather forget though. She had read one forum post that said that the sick were actually dying and rising from the dead. The dead were walking. She didn't know what to believe, it all seemed so improbable. Mr. Park from next door had come by earlier and said that he had heard some sort of refugee center was being set up. Beth didn't want to go to a refugee center. She wanted to go home.

Her roommate, Eva, was holed up in her bedroom. She could hear her talking in high rapid Spanish, panic edging her voice. She must have managed to get her Mamma on the phone. Beth had tried calling Hershel a million times but hadn't been able to get through. She knew Maggie was on the farm. Her sister was on spring break from grad school and had called Beth the weekend before offering her a ride home, but Beth had been scheduled to work, and things hadn't been so bad then. And now her phone wouldn't even dial most of the time and it definitely wasn't sending out texts.

Daryl was out of town too. He had gone on a run with Merle, had told her he'd be back in a week, said it'd be the last one. He had gotten a job at a small mechanic shop on the outskirts of the city. The owner didn't care that he wasn't licensed. It paid for crap but it was honest work, well mostly, he had added, his mouth tilting up just a little. Beth felt tears well up in her eyes as she heard Eva begin to sob in her bedroom. She had tried calling Daryl even more times then Herschel, more than Maggie, but she had never managed to get through. A loud cheery melody shattered the silence of the room and and the chaos of her thoughts.

Beth jumped off the couch, nearly tripping on her own feet as she lunged for her phone on the kitchen table. Her heart leapt into her throat as she saw who it was and pressed the answer button with a trembling finger. “Daryl!”

“Beth!” He sounded distant, faraway.

“Daryl!” Relief rushed through her making her hand shake even harder as she flattened the phone to her cheek.

“Beth can you hear me?!” He was nearly shouting now, loud cracks and buzzes breaking up his voice.

“Yes, yes I can hear you!”

“You safe?”

“I'm still in my apartment. Eva's here too. I've tried to call, it's been three days since I talked to anyone. Daryl what's happenin'. I just can't get through to anybody and now the the TV isn't workin'. I haven't talked to Daddy or Maggie and the news said that he National Guard was gonna come take us all to some refugee center. I want to go home...” She was speaking rapid fire, words spilling out her mouth in no particular order. She knew she was rambling but couldn't seem to stop herself.

“Pack a bag, nothin' stupid, food, water, warm clothes, that kind of shit.”

Beth hesitated. “You think I should go with the National Guard? What about..”

He cut her off. “Stay put I'm coming to get you.”

Another wave of relief flooded her body, turning her knees to jelly. She sat down at the kitchen table with a heavy thud. “When?”

There was a long pause on the end of the line full of bursts of static and for a brief moment Beth thought they had been disconnected. “Soon as I can,” his voice came through again, soft and raspy.

“Ok.” she whispered.

“Listen you gotta stay in your apartment. Put somethin' heavy in front of the door. Don't open it for no one.” There was worry in his tone, fear even. Beth felt her stomach drop all the way to the kitchen floor.

“Ok,” she repeated, hot tears starting to spill from her eyes.

“Do it Beth,” he growled. “Don't let anyone in. You promise me!”

“I promise,” she replied softly.

“I'm comin' for you.” He said it so softly but with such conviction and of course she believed him. That didn't stop more tears from streaming down her cheeks. Her stomach hurt. “Beth I'm comin'” he repeated.

“I know.” She fought hard to keep the tremble out of her voice and hoped to god she succeeded. She was going to suck it up. She was going to be brave and she was going to get out of this city and go find her family. There was no reply on the other end. “Daryl?” Silence. She looked down at her phone. Call dropped.

With a shaky sigh she stood up and roughly wiped at the tears on her cheeks. Sliding her phone into the back pocket of her jeans she looked around. Her gaze settled on a big chest of drawers she had taken from the farm. It was an old piece, heavy and built solid. Her Daddy and Otis had nearly had heart attacks getting it up the building stairs. She and Eva had been using it for a TV stand. Beth quickly cleared the top, unplugging the still blank TV and setting it on the floor. Putting her shoulder to it's solid weight she slowly began pushing it across the room towards the door.

“What are you doing?”

Beth stopped pushing and turned to face her roommate. Eva was standing in the doorway of her bedroom, dark eyes rimmed red from crying. Her and Eva didn't see eye to eye on everything, she was loud, sometimes careless, and hadn't done the dishes once in a nearly a year, but Beth liked her. “Daryl told us to put something in front of the door.”

Eva's eyes widened. “You talked to Daryl?”

“Yeah just for a minute though... the call dropped. You talk to your Mamma?” Beth asked softly.

“Yeah,” Eva sniffed, her lower lip trembling a little. “She said my brother left the house to find Papi... They haven't come back yet.”

A fat tear slid down her friend's face and Beth went to the girl, grabbing her in a hug. “I'm sure they are both fine,” she whispered.

Eva sniffed, pulling away. “Thanks Beth. I'm glad you got to talk to Daryl.”

Beth turned and went back to the heavy piece of furniture she had been struggling with. “Come on help me push this in front of the door, just in case.”

“In case of what?”

Beth bit her lower lip. “I'm not sure.”

Eva shrugged and came to help. They were nearly halfway across the room when they heard the screaming.

Both girls froze at first but then Eva rushed for the door. Her hand was on the handle before Beth could even collect her thoughts.

“Wait!” Beth lunged forward slamming the door shut and throwing the dead bolt just as Eva opened it. The screaming continued louder now, moving closer, echoing down the hallway. Someone was screaming for help.

“We have to help!” Eva cried.

Beth swallowed hard. “Yeah I know, just let me look okay?” Eva frowned nodded. Beth stood up on her tiptoes peeking out the peephole. She didn't see anything at first, just the empty hallway. Suddenly something rushed past her vision, a blurred flash of red and black. Beth jumped back with a little gasp as something heavy slammed into the door.

“Help! Please help me!” The door vibrated as a fist slammed into it.

“I think it's Mr. Park,” Eva murmured.

“Help me! Please, she's coming!'' The door was shaking with the force of Mr. Parks panic.

Beth moved quickly, opening the hall closet and grabbing the heavy wooden baseball bat that Daryl had made her buy. She gripped it tightly and nodded towards Eva. “Okay open the door and let him.”

“What are you going to do with the bat?” Eva whispered.

“I don't know,” Beth whispered back.

Eva's eyes widened but she stepped forward and opened the door. Mr. Park came tumbling into the apartment, hitting the floor hard. The girls stared at him. His entire right side was covered in blood and there was gaping raw wound at the juncture of his shoulder and neck. Long angry red scratch marks ran down both of his arms.

“Shut the door! Shut the door!” he cried, jumping to his feet and throwing his weight against it, just as something slammed into the other side with a feral growl. Beth dropped the bat and ran forward adding her weight to her neighbor's. The door slammed shut and Beth locked it, breathing hard. Mr. Park stumbled backwards and collapsed crying on the floor. There was still something clawing at the other side of the door, even the frame was shuddering with the strength of it's blows.

Beth crept forward and looked through the peephole. Her whole body was shaking like a leaf. “Mr. Park,” she breathed, “is that your wife?” The woman's skin was tinged ghastly gray and green. Her once dark eyes were now a milky blue, sunken deep into the shadows of her face. Her lips were pale, stretched and cracked; her hair was a matted dark halo around her head. There was blood on her teeth.

“Yes!” the man sobbed.

Beth and Eva stood terror stricken, looking at each other with wide eyes before they both turned as one and hurried to push the chest of drawers against the door. Once that was done Beth finally turned to get a good look at Mr. Park. She didn't know much about the Parks, had only met them a handful of times, but all of her interactions with them had been pleasant. Beth's heart ached for the man in front of her. His normally neat appearance was now anything but. His plaid button down shirt was ripped and bloodied and his wire rim glaces had been knocked askew, a long crack running down one lens. The wound on his upper shoulder was glistening and angry, gnawed at and broken. It looked like some sort of animal had ripped into him, taking a piece of him for it's own. Beth grabbed a kitchen towel thinking to try and apply some pressure to the wound. An image of Mrs. Park's bloodied teeth flashed in front of her as she kneeled next to the sobbing man.

“You're hurt Mr. Park. We're goin' to help you okay?” She placed a gently hand on the man's uninjured shoulder. Mr. Park managed to stop crying long enough to nod and Beth managed to muster up a small smile for him. She had patched up plenty of cuts and sprains on the farm and Herschel had taught her basic first aid, but she was sure this was beyond her. He was going to need stitches, but Beth wasn't sure that even stitches would help much when a hunk of flesh had been ripped out of your shoulder. The wound was bleeding but she was hopeful that it wasn't deep enough to have hit any major arteries. Small blessings. At least he wouldn't bleed out on the living room floor.

“This is gonna hurt but we have to stop the bleeding.” The man nodded and Beth pressed down with the kitchen towel, wincing as he whimpered in pain. “Eva go and get the first aid kit from the bathroom.” When there was no response she turned to see Eva still standing in front of the door trembling. Beth grabbed Mr. Park's hand and placed it on towel covering his wound. “Keep pressing that there,” she told him softly.

“Eva!” Beth got up and took the other girl by the shoulders shaking her gently. “Eva!” The girls eyes slowly focused on Beth. “Eva I need you to get the first aid kit and then bring it back here. After that go to your room and back a small bag with things you think you might need if we have to leave okay.”

“Where would we go?”

Beth shook her head. “I don't know but Daryl's gonna come and we have to be ready.”

Eva nodded and headed for the bathroom. Beth turned back to Mr Park who looked considerably paler, sweat was beginning to glisten across his pale forehead. She quickly went over the sink and started running water into a big mixing bowl, grabbing all the kitchen towels out of the drawer. Thank god the electricity was still on.

“It's going to be okay Mr Park,” she called. She briefly thought about moving him to the couch but she wasn't sure she could lift him and he wasn't looking the greatest. She decided to leave him on the floor, grabbing some of the couch cushions to prop behind him. Eva returned and Beth took the kit settling beside the prone man. “We just gotta stop the bleeding okay.” Beth pulled back the blood soaked kitchen towel and swallowed hard. The wound was even worse the second time looking at. Blood was flowing less slowly though and that was good thing. She held up a water bottle to his lips and made him take a few sips. “We gotta get his clean okay.”

He grabbed her hand. “My wife.”

Beth bit her lip and looked over at the door of the apartment. She could still hear growls and scratching coming from the other side. “Mr. Park your first name's Ken right?” The man nodded as she dipped a towel into the bowl of water and began gently wiping the area around his wound. “Well Ken I'm not so sure we can help Mrs. Park right now.” Beth glanced at the door again. “I... I think she's still sick.”

“I... I hoped she was sleeping. She had been so sick and her breathing... I just wanted to check and then she opened her eyes.... and they... they were the wrong color.” Ken began sobbing and Beth felt a few warm tears run down her cheeks. She had no idea what to say. What did you say to someone who's wife had just taken a bite out of his shoulder? Beth began to hum a little under her breath, her voice growing a little louder as the man quieted a little. She cleaned and wrapped his shoulder as well as she could. They didn't have much in the way of bandages but it was the best she could do. He needed professional medical help but it wasn't like they could call an ambulance and the closest hospital was miles away. Beth helped Ken to lay down. She grabbed a spare blanket from the hall closet and draped it over him, pressing a hand to his forehead. His head was burning up but his hands and feet were icy cold. Standing up she finally noticed all the blood on own her hands and spent a good five minutes scrubbing them at the sink.

“Is he goin' to be okay?” Eva had returned from her room, a small bag thrown over one shoulder. Beth could only shrug in response, she didn't have it in her to be affirming. Eva bit her lip looking at the apartment door. “Don't you think we can help his wife? She's just sick right?”

Beth shook her head. “I don't think so.”

Eva sat down at the kitchen table. “What are we goin' to do?”

Beth sighed and wiped her hands. Her head was beginning to pound, a dull ache spreading out from behind her eyes and creeping into her temples. “I am goin' to back a bag and then we are goin' to wait for Daryl and then we are all goin' to get somewhere safe. We can go to the farm. I bet Daddy can patch up Mr. Park and then we can help you find your family.” She gestured towards the man lying on the floor, “Keep an eye on him okay.” Eva nodded and Beth trudged to her room, closing the door behind her, and collapsing on the bed. She had to clench her hands into tight fists to keep the sob that was clawing at her chest from breaking free. Crying wasn't going to help anyone and she needed to keep it together for Eva and for Ken Park. She stood and dug through her closet for a change of clothes. Finding an old t-shirt that Daryl had left behind she threw it on. It had been miraculously spared of having it's sleeves cut off but it was big on her, hanging low and loose around her hips. There was a cigarette burn in the bottom hem but it smelled of him and it was comforting. She grabbed a small black backpack and started throwing things in it: pocket knife, matches, flashlight, batteries, socks, underwear, extra shirt. After pulling on her boots she rifled through her jewelry box and found the silver heart necklace that her Mamma had given her on her 16th birthday, fastening it around her neck. She hesitated a minute before grabbing her journal from the bedside table and throwing that in her bag too. She was ready as she was going to get.

Ken had fallen asleep, his breathing labored, his skin a sickly yellow. She had no idea what else to do for him. Eva was still sitting at the kitchen table starting forlornly at her phone. Beth picked up her forgotten baseball bat and sat it next to her backpack on the couch. Crouching down she plugged the TV back in and flipped through she same channels of static.

“What are we going to do now?” Eva sighed.

Beth shrugged. “Well I guess we can always watch a movie.” The girls each caught the others eye and before Beth knew it they were both giggling and then laughing.

“I think we have ice cream in the freezer!” Beth watched as Eva got up and rummaged through the kitchen coming back with a half gallon of rocky road and two spoons. There was a tinge of desperation to their mirth but neither wanted to fully face what was happening around them. Beth especially didn't want to think about what was standing in the hallway outside the door. The girls settled in setting in front of the couch wrapping themselves in blankets Beth dragged in from her bedroom. They watched movie after movie and ate all the ice cream and half a bag of chocolate chips before they both fell asleep, Eva's head resting on Beth's shoulder.

 

...+++...

 

When Beth woke up it was completely dark. The TV was blank and no light was filtering in from the windows. She could hear Eva was snoring softly beside her and the more labored breaths of the man laying just beyond them. Beth quickly untangled herself from her nest of blankets and pulled out her phone using it to illuminate her way to the nearest light switch, flipping it up and down a couple of times. Nothing happened. The power was out. She couldn't say she was surprised, she'd definitely been expecting it.

Beth tiptoed towards Ken, shining her phone over his face. He was still hot to the touch and his breathing was raspy and low. He was so pale that she could see blue veins crawling up his cheeks, branching out across his flickering eyelids. His cheeks were drawn and gaunt and there were deep purple shadows ringing his eyes. A bright red spot was slowly expanding from the center of the bandage on his shoulder. She would have to change it in the morning when there was more light. Beth dumped half a bottle of water over one of the last clean kitchen towels in an effort to make a cool compress for his hot forehead. It wasn't much but she hoped it would help comfort him a little. With a heavy sigh she went and sat back down next to Eva on the floor, leaning her head back against the front of the couch. She closed her eyes letting the darkness draw her back in.

 

When Beth woke again it was to the sound of Eva screaming.

 

The shrill sound was abruptly broken by a loud wet gurgle. She jumped to her feet, heart beating wildly against her rib cage. It was daylight once more and she nearly fell, feet tangling in the blanket that Eva had been wrapped in. Beth managed to catch herself on the edge of the couch, eyes widening in horror at the scene playing out in front of her.

“Eva!” Beth cried out, hearing the sharp ring of panic in her own voice.

Eva was on her back, scrambling backwards across the floor, one hand pressed to her neck, vibrant streams of blood bubbling from beneath her fingers. Mr. Park was scampering after her on his hands and knees, reaching for the other girls legs as Eva frantically tried to stay out of his grasp. She managed to give him one good kick to his face, knocking him backwards a few feet.

“Mr. Park stop!” Beth yelled, lunging forward and grabbing one of the man's legs, putting all of her weight into dragging him back, trying to stop his relentless pursuit of her bleeding roommate. Mr. Park turned towards her, his eyes milky and blank, his skin pale and mottled with grays, yellows and blues. Eva's kick had split his lip but he wasn't bleeding, the cut was just a dark red rent in his skin.

“Mr. Park! Ken stop!” Beth yelled again as he pulled his leg free of her grasp, sending her stumbling backwards. She watched helplessly as he turned back towards Eva who was cowering in the corner, her face pale, blood soaking the front of her shirt.

Beth dashed forward and grabbed the baseball bat she had dropped the night before placing herself between the advancing Mr. Park and Eva. “Ken please stop,” she pleaded.

He didn't stop only climbed clumsily to his feet and lunged for Beth; his focus shifting to her now that she was truly in the way. Beth managed to dodge his grasp and swing hard hitting the older man with a solid thwack to the middle, knocking him. A feral growl clawed its way from his throat, his mouth an open cavern of bloodied teeth. He charged towards her again.

“Mr. Park!” Beth sobbed and swung again. Fueled by adrenaline and desperation the bat connected with the side of his head and he fell to his knees. He reached for her again. Beth screamed as he succeeded in catching one of her legs and knock her off balance, cold stiff fingers digging into the soft flesh of her calf. She fell and hit the ground hard, a sharp pain bursting upwards from her tailbone. Mr. Park's grip tightened. He dragged her towards him, his bloodied mouth gaping. She screamed again as his jaws snapped perilously close to her flesh and kicked out catching him hard in the face much like Eva had moments before. His grip slackened just a bit and she wrenched her leg free, scrambling to her feet. Swinging the bat with all of her strength she hit him squarely in the side of the head and reeled back as she saw and felt his skull burst and cave in under the weight of the blow, his empty eyes bulging outwards with the pressure. He dropped like a stone face first onto the floor. Beth stood over him bloodied baseball bat clutched in both quaking hands.

With a whoosh of air she collapsed onto the floor, knees folding, bat clattering down beside her. _She had killed him. Oh my god she had killed Mr. Park. She was a murderer, a murderer._ Her body was shaking and her eyes were glued to the dark pool of blood that was leaking out from underneath the body in front of her. Her face felt hot and tight with unshed tears. She could taste vomit rising at the back of her throat. “I'm sorry,” she whispered, her chest starting to heave. “I'm really sorry. I'm sorry.” She watched mesmerized as Ken Park's blood kept pooling ever outwards on the linoleum floor. She was spiraling. She was underwater and her lungs were burning. _She had killed Mr. Park._

“Beth,” a hoarse whisper cut across her panic, dragging her back to the surface. She blinked and focused, ripping her eyes from the body in front of her. _Eva!_

Her roommate was still slumped in the corner, hand pressed to her neck. Her light pink t shirt was nearly all red now, a shocking contrast to the pallor of her skin. “Oh Eva!” She scurried over to her friend. 

Beth was at a loss. She had no idea what to do. With trembling fingers she lifted Eva's hand away from her neck trying to get a better look at what was underneath. A fresh surge of blood bubbled down the girl's neck and Eva choked, gasping, a red stream burbling from between her lips. A part of Eva's neck was messing, skin and muscle ripped and torn beyond recognition. Beth quickly placed her own hand to the wound, pressing down as much as she dared, even as her friend slumped lower into the corner. Beth was biting down so hard on her lower lip that she hardly noticed when her own hot coppery blood filled her mouth. 

“It's gonna be okay,” Beth whispered using her other hand to stroke a few strands of hair off of Eva's hot forehead. “We're gonna get you patched up. We've still got plenty of gauze and then Daryl's gonna come and... we'll go to my Daddy's. You remember him right? He liked you Eva, said you had a gentle spirit.”

Eva gazed up at her, dark eyes wide and scared. More blood was seeping from the corner of her mouth. Beth wiped it away gently and took the girl's hand, threading their fingers together. She could still feel Eva wound pulsing under her palm, the pressure doing little to stop the blood flow. She had to get something to stop the bleeding but she knew if she took her hand away Eva would bleed out across the floor.

“My Daddy will fix you up. And Maggie will probably be there too and she can help you find your family and Daryl will help. You know how tough Daryl is. He's the best tracker in Georgia, he can find anything or anyone. He's probably almost here. Your mamma's gonna be so glad to see you,” Beth choked out, trying to keep the waver out of her voice.

“Mamma?” Eva's voice was so soft that Beth could barely hear it. The faraway look in the girl's eyes scared Beth even more then all the blood, scared her more then Mrs. Park in the hallway, or Mr. Park lying face down on the floor.

“You're gonna see your mamma real soon okay? Real soon.” Beth squeezed Eva's hand but the other girls grip was beginning to slacken, her breathing becoming even more labored as blood filled her airway. “Eva you gotta hold on. Daryl's comin'. He'll know what to do.” Beth was crying now, tears slipping down her cheeks to gather and roll down the girls' laced fingers.

“Mamma,” Eva breathed, her voice floating softly out of her ruined throat. Her eyes fluttered shut, eyelashes two dark charcoal streaks across her bloodless face.

Beth's voice got louder as the other girl's diminished. “Eva, Daryl's comin' and he's gonna take you to your mamma's okay? We'll go straight there.” She couldn't keep the tears out of her voice anymore, her shoulders were shaking with her sobs. “Eva. Eva. You gotta hold on.” Beth watched as her friend's chest heaved in and out once more and then stopped, the last breath leaving her lips with a soft gurgle. Her body was so still, almost empty, like whatever had composed Eva, all the brightness, and the loudness, and the messiness, and the kindness had disappeared with that last rush of air.

Beth wasn't sure how long she sat there crying, pressing down on Eva's neck and holding tightly to her hand. Crying because she was scared and crying because she had killed a man and crying because her friend had died right there in front of her and crying because her whole world had turned upside down in a few days. Beth took one last shuddering sob swallowing hard and let go of Eva's hand. She stood up wiping her hands off as best she could on a kitchen towel. She carefully covered Eva with her bedspread and then dragged a blanket over Mr. Park as well. It was the best she could do. She had to get out. The air in the apartment was thick and heavy, tinged with the smell of sickness and catastrophe, bright and coppery. It felt like the whole place was closing in on her, trapping her beneath stone and steel and oceans of blood.

Beth swung her backpack over her shoulders and grabbed the baseball bat, lowering herself out the window and onto the fire escape. She settled on the ledge, dropping her face to her knees, gathering her thoughts and taking deep breaths of fresh air. It was still morning the sun wasn't directly overhead, but she could already tell it was going to be hot. Her hair had come undone from her ponytail and now clung to her face and neck in tiny wisps. She wanted to go home.

Everything felt so surreal, like she was dreaming. Maybe she was dreaming. Beth lifted her head and pinched her arm hard watching the skin turn white and then bright red as she released it. She allowed herself to peek back into the apartment window at the blanketed bundles on the floor. Not dreaming. She put her head back down on her knees.

Beth sat there for a long while, thinking about what she was going to do, playing through different scenarios in her head. She wasn't sure where to go. Maybe the best course of action would be to just sit there and wait for Daryl to show up. Beth froze as a soft moan rumbled out from the apartment. Another groan followed the first and Beth turned to look inside. She watched horror struck as the blanket covering Eva shifted and fell away. Eva's eyes were open but they were blood shot and pale, menacing in her ashy face. Beth pinched herself again, twisting the skin on her arm until she knew she would have a bruise. Eva turned snuffling at the air, her mouth gaping open, the blood on her face and neck a stark contrast to the paleness of her skin. All of the morning's events filtered through her thoughts as she watched her roommate pick herself up off the floor and she knew without a doubt that that thing in there was no longer her friend, it was something else entirely. It turned and spotted her at the window. Snarling it lurched towards her bloody fingers out stretched, gaze intent.

Grabbing the baseball bat and backpack Beth threw herself down the fire escape, cursing softly as she slammed her knees against the wrought iron. She climbed down quickly landing with a soft thump on the pavement. At the impact she heard her keys jangle in the bottom of her backpack. _Her keys!_ She could go to the diner. It was only three blocks away and she figured it was probably still locked up. Daryl might even think to look there for her it was so close.

Resolute she set out keeping as near to the side of buildings as she could, trying to make herself as small as possible. It was eerie being out on the street alone in the middle of the day. She didn't exactly live in a bustling past of the city but the silence around her put her on edge. There was no traffic, no sound other the soft whisper of her breathing as she tried to keep to the shadows. She was about a block away from her apartment when she heard the shrill squeal of rubber against pavement. Shocked, she watched as a sliver station wagon made a hard right onto the street, it's tires crying out in shrieking protest. The car wobbled and righted itself, blowing past her. A woman pulled herself out of the passenger side window waving her arms frantically back at Beth.

“RUN! RUN!” the stranger yelled. “THEY'RE COMIN'.”

Beth's blood ran cold, her heart leaping into her throat. She watched horrified as a great shambling mass of people emerged from the street that car had just turned off of. They were moving as one, a blur of shifting arms and legs, red mouths open, eyes pale and searching. Most of their clothes were ripped or bloodied, their skin a mix of unnatural grays, yellows, and blues. Their smell preceded them down the road, a great stinking wave of rot and gore. Beth turned and ran taking the same route as the car, straight down the middle of the road. She knew she was fast and she had a head start. She could get away.

A wave of panic flooded her system as two lumbering figures wandered into the street in front of her. The two things, a man and a woman, spotted her immediately. Even from here she could see they were the same as the things that were perusing her from behind. She was nearly sick when she realized that half of the man's stomach had been ripped out, strings of gore and guts trailing behind him. The woman was missing half of her right arm. Gripping her baseball bat she kept running forward. Maybe if she could just knock one of them off balance she could get past the second. Both things lunged for her as she got closer.

With a small cry Beth swung low striking out at the woman's legs, the force of the blow vibrating up the length of her arms. The woman floundered and fell, one ankle snapping with a sickening crunch, but the man was ready. He grabbed her arm, forcing her to stumble backwards. She tried to wrench free but he was too strong. She lost her grip on the bat, hearing it clatter to the ground, as he yanked her forward. Beth opened her mouth to scream as his jaws snapped at her face but the scream died in her throat as she felt something whiz by her head, ruffling her hair. An arrow lodged itself in her assailants eye. The man dropped to the pavement.

Beth stood over him shaking as she gawked down at bright orange fletching. She knew those arrows, had been there when he had bought them, standing beside him in the hunting aisle at Wal-Mart. _Daryl._ Beth spun around. Daryl was behind her, motorcycle running, crossbow raised. She had never seen anything more beautiful in her entire life.

“What are you waiting for Greene, an invitation!? Get yer ass on this bike.”

Beth took a couple of steps forward, smile blooming across her face. She yelped and toppled forward, already bruised knees slamming into the hard ground as the woman she had knocked down earlier clawed at her ankles, trying to pull her backwards. Beth twisted, kicking at the woman's face and arm. Over the top of the woman's snarling head she could see the giant horde of people still moving towards them, their growls and snarls echoing up the street.

“Beth!” Another arrow flew by her burying itself in the woman's right shoulder, the force knocking her away. “Run Beth!”

Beth shook herself free and climbed to her feet, hurtling towards the bike, her legs pumping as fast as she could make them go. She skidded to a halt in front of Daryl. His sharp blue eyes swept her up and down and she knew what he was seeing. She had never bothered to change her clothes and she was still wearing his old t-shirt, stiff and stained red with Eva's blood. Her jeans were bloody and ripped at both knees, her hair a tumbling tangled mass around her sweaty face.

One second she was staring up at him, a goofy relieved grin lighting up her face, and the next she was being pulled into his chest, warm arms surrounding her, crushing her to him. She felt him quickly press a kiss to the top of her head before he released her, swinging around and throwing his leg over the bike, revving the engine into life. Beth climbed on, sliding herself forward so she was snug against him, wrapping her arms tightly around his middle, and pressing her cheek into the wings emblazoned on his back. She could hear the snarls and growls of the hoard growing closer, but she could only smile as the bike shot forward and her hair sailed away from her face, a mess of golden curls flowing out behind her.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Daryl saves the day. Next up, WE GOTTA GO GET MERLE.


	3. Chapter 3

 

Beth wasn't sure how long they had been riding. The spring air rushing across her skin was a cool contrast to the hot afternoon sun on her back. She had never been on a motorcycle until she had met Daryl Dixon, but after nearly a year of riding behind him she couldn't figure why anyone would want to be shut up inside of a stuffy car, not when you had the option of seeing the world flash by in a wave of colors. Riding always made her feel like she was soaring through midair, like maybe she could grow wings and fly, evolve into something other then she was, something stronger and lighter. She snuggled closer into Daryl's back, smiling when she felt his large hand cover one of her own. Being like this, being with him, she could almost forget all the horrible things she had seen today and the horrible things she had done.

When they had started out Daryl had shouted out to her that they had to go get Merle. She noticed that Daryl had been careful to avoid main streets, weaving his way through alleys and one ways until Beth wasn't sure where they were or where they were going. They hadn't seen much traffic just a few cars here and there, all headed out of the city like them.

The houses they were passing were getting smaller and smaller. The spaces between them larger and larger. Georgia woods were looming up before them and Beth thought that maybe they were somewhere north of the city on the outskirts of a smaller suburb. Daryl turned down a deeply rutted dirt road. The tires of the bike kicked up a cloud of dust that made Beth cough. They pulled to a stop in front of a small rundown house that looked like it had once been painted white but was now just a dingy gray. A few of the windows were boarded up and the cement steps that led to the front door were near to crumbling into the ground. The lawn was more dirt than grass and there was a ancient beige pickup in the driveway that looked like it was being mostly held together by rust. The yard was cluttered with a good deal of other junk, spare car parts, old tires, and what looked like an antique tractor that was half covered in climbing vines. The house was backed by the beginnings of a sparse wood.

Daryl turned off the bike and got off. Beth followed suit, looking around the derelict lot, curious. She turned to face Daryl questions hot on her tongue but fell silent when she saw how intensely he was studying her.

“You hurt? Not bit or scratched?” he asked softly.

Beth shook her head. “I'm okay,” she whispered.

Daryl ran a shaky hand threw his hair. “Jesus Beth. You scared the shit out of me.”

Reaching out she grabbed his hand, stepping closer to him. “I'm fine Daryl, really.” She summoned up a small smile as he cupped her face with his other hand, running his thumb across her cheekbone. “I'm okay,” she repeated. Her eyes fluttered shut and she allowed herself to lean into him.

The sound of a screen door slamming open made them both jump a little, breaking the sweetness of the moment. Beth opened her eyes, watching as Merle emerged from the house, stalking across the yard. “Where the hell you been boy?!”

Daryl's shoulders stiffened as he let go of her hand, taking a step forward to meet his brother, positioning himself just slightly in front of her. “You know where I been.”

“Yeah well I didn't think it'd take all fucking day.” Merle peered at Beth, taking in her ripped jeans and disheveled hair. “What'd you do stop for a roll in the hay on the way back,” he leered.

“Hey Merle,” Beth chimed before Daryl could reply, stepping up and offering him a sunny smile. The older man just shot her a glare and stomped back inside, screen door banging behind him. Beth let her smile drop. “What's got him all worked up?”

Daryl shrugged, “I could guess.”

“I think he was worried about you.” Beth teased, bumping her shoulder into his, trying to dissipate the tension. Daryl only snorted in response. She looked around again, her face falling into a frown as the realization of where they were sunk in. “This your Daddy's place Daryl?” she asked softly.

He didn't look at her, just kept his gaze straight ahead, fixated on the peeling paint of the house. “Yeah and we're leaving just as soon as Merle get's his shit. Take you to the farm.” Daryl's voice was hard and firm, it brooked no argument.

Beth's heart ached for him. She knew how difficult this must be. He hardly ever talked about his childhood...

Daryl continued. “And you don't need to come inside neither. He's nothing but a fuckin' mean old drunk. Bad enough I had to bring you here at all.”

She could see him raising his walls, see him becoming harder, gruffer, more flippant; nervous energy radiated off of him. “Daryl...” she whispered stepping closer to him and threading her fingers through his. “Your past don't make me think of you any different. Doesn't make you any less.”

Daryl shook his head, looking down at his scuffed boots, tugging at the strap of his crossbow, still refusing to look at her. “I know and I still think you're goddamn crazy.”

“Daryl...” she tugged at his hand and he finally turned to her, his gaze softening a little as she looked up at them. “It'll be alright. Everythin's gonna work out.”

He shook his head, the corner of his mouth flipping up. He brought her hand up to his lips pressing a quick kiss to the back of it before he let it go. “Stay here and keep an eye out. I'm goin' in to get Merle. You yell if you see one thing moving.”

“Yeah ok.”

“I mean it Beth,” he rasped. “And don't go wandering off.”

“I know Daryl. Where would I even go?” she questioned, getting a little indignant. It wasn't like she had much choice about leaving her apartment earlier.

“Well fucking stay put this time,” he grumbled heading towards the house.

“Yes sir, Mr Dixon!” Beth shouted at his retreating figure.

He didn't reply just stuck out his arm flashing her a thumbs up sign before he disappeared inside, making her roll her eyes.

Beth ambled over to a ramshackle old kennel on the far side of the yard, immediately feeling sorry for any dog that had ever lived there. There was even more junk on this side of the lot. She flipped over an old ashtray with the toe of her boot. Some part of her was curious about Will Dixon, about the man with so much ill will in his heart that he had carved the excess into his son. She had seen Daryl's scars of course, purple and white ridges of flesh that crisscrossed his back in slicing streaks. Her heart had about broken in two the first night he had shown them to her. He had been so nervous, so tense, as if at any moment her rejection or worse her pity would etch another bloody line across his skin. She had run her fingers over his back, remaining quiet, pressing soft lips to each vicious stripe, trying her best to silently reassure him that he was still the same man to her. Beth hadn't asked him to tell her the story of his marks, knowing not to press, but over time he told her the essence of it. Drunk daddy, drunk mamma, bruises, hunger, loneliness and a pile of disappointments. Life had not been kind to Daryl Dixon, but someone, by some miracle, a testament to his spirit, life hadn't managed to beat the kindness and the inherent goodness out of him.

Beth could feel anger and frustration rising in her the longer she stood in the overgrown grass. Her folks had raised her to turn the other cheek, to suss out and nurture the kindness and the goodness in people, but she knew if Will Dixon came out of that house she'd have a few choice words for him. Not just for Daryl's sake either. Her granddaddy had been none to kind to her own father and she had seen Hershel struggle with his own demons. She was continually amazed that the two best men she knew were the ones that had been trampled so thoroughly early in life.

She drifted, awash in her thoughts, wandering back to the front door and catching sight of Daryl and Merle standing in the doorway.

“If I'd known I wouldn't have come back for your ass, left you here to rot, both of ya.” Daryl was angry, his voice pitched higher than normal.

Merle was just as angry. “What are you gonna do run off and play house with yer jailbait girlfriend, pretend like everythin's all sweetness and light, cause she blinkin' a pair o big blue eyes up at you?”

Beth watched wide eyed as Daryl stormed out of the house.

Merle followed close on his heels, lips spitting poison. “You tellin' me that girls pussy worth more than your family!?”

Daryl turned back, his hands clenched into white fists, violence vibrating off him in tangible waves.

Beth stepped forward quickly. Her face felt flush and she knew her cheeks must be bright pink. “What's goin' on,” she whispered.

Merle turned, his eyes twin blue laser beams cutting right through her. Beth's heart fluttered wildly in her chest. “Our old man's gone and got himself bit. Tried wrestlin' a pair of walkers for a deer carcass.”

“Walkers?” Beth responded slowly, the word not ringing true for her.

“Yeah walkers. Biters. Chompers. Rotters. Geeks. You slow girl? Didn't take you for no _retard_.”

Beth could only stare at him in stunned silence, resentment starting to bubble up inside of her, a hot spring inside her belly.

“You somehow fail to notice that dead folk are walkin' around tryin' to eat people? Somehow that slip by you?” Merle spat.

Beth boiled over. Finding her voice she took a step towards him. “Just cause you're scared don't mean you get to treat Daryl and me like crap!”

“I ain't scared of nothing girl!” Merle bellowed back a vein beginning to throb in his forehead. She could actually see his pulse pounding in his throat, but there was no way Beth was going to back down.

“Bullshit!” Beth yelled, marching right up the older man, invading his personal space.

“Beth...” Daryl reached out to gently grab her arm but she shook free, poking a finger into Merle's chest.

“You're both scared of whats in this house, both too used to runnin' yourself ragged tryin' to hide from all the bad shit that happened when you were little. Daryl's the best man I ever known, he's sweet and kind and loyal. I _see_ you Merle. I see what you are. I see how much you care about him, see how much you care about each other. If you didn't you wouldn't be out here tryin' to hurt each other.”

Merle's expression softened into one of mild surprise as he took a step back. “You don't know shit.”

“I know you feel guilty! I know you feel absolutely sick about leaving him all those years ago! I know that you may act the part of an asshole Merle Dixon but you ain't a bad man, not deep down, not yet anyway.” Beth was breathing hard, her shoulders tense and her arms rigid.

Merle looked over at Daryl who was watching the whole scene with a frown on his face. “Yer baby's girl got more sand then I gave her credit for little brother. Thought you caught yourself a nice kitten to cuddle with but she's a regular hellcat when she get's worked up.”

“I ain't nobody's baby girl,” Beth spat, sidestepping Merle and letting herself into the house, slamming the door firmly behind her.

It was worse then she thought it would be. The inside of the house was drab and dim. Very little light filtered in through the dirty windows, tinging everything dark brown and pale yellow. She nearly tripped over a stack of old pizza boxes on the floor as she crept farther into the main room. She took a deep breath trying to settle her frayed nervous and immediately regretted it. The house smelled off old beer and cigarettes undercut with something sharper and foul that made Beth's stomach turn.

An older man was sprawled out in a faded pink recliner. He was snoring lightly, his mouth slack. His hair was silver, cropped close to his head and his nose was red and bulbous; but he had clearly passed on his high cheekbones and square jawline to both of his sons. He was wearing a dirty wife beater and gripping a half empty bottle of Jim Beam in one hand. His right arm was tightly bandaged with what looked like a piece of dirty flannel. Blood was beginning to soak through the thin fabric and drip down his arm onto the already stained carpet. Beth stepped fully into the living room, her boot accidentally kicking aside a few stray beer cans that littered the floor. The man's eyes opened, zoning in on her. They were shockingly blue, electric against the tan of his face. She froze, her courage abandoning her.

“Who the fuck are you?” he croaked.

“I'm Beth.”

“That supposed to mean shit to me?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“Then what the hell you doin' standin' in my livin' room? You come to rob me?”

Beth pursed her lips considering the piles of trash and what was left of the furniture. “Ain't much worth takin'.”

To her surprise he chuckled. “Ain't that the goddamn truth.” He sat up a bit straighter, whiskey sloshing against the sides of the bottle in his hand. “You Daryl's girl?” Beth nodded, frowning as his eyes traveled slowly up and down the length of her body. “He knock you up or somethin'?”

“What?” she spluttered, indignation rushing back, her ears burning.

Will Dixon shrugged leaning back into the chair with a wince. “Only way I can figure you'd stick around with the likes of him. I'd run now girl, neither my sons' worth a damn and truthfully you don't look strong enough to carry Dixon seed.”

Beth bit down hard on her tongue, biting back all the words that were threatening to come pouring out of her. It was taking all the self control she had left. She could tell arguing with Will Dixon was useless and anything she had to say would only escalate the situation. This man was nothing but mean. Deep down she knew he wouldn't hesitate to raise a hand to her and if that happened she wasn't quite sure what Daryl would do.

She turned without a word and stomped towards what she hoped what was the kitchen. It was worse then the living room. There were more empty whiskey bottles then she could count. Beer cans and mason jars lined the counter. The jars were all filled with some sort of clear liquid, all varying degrees of full. She doubted it was water. Her nerves were shot after the days events and she could feel hot tears pressing up behind her eyes, threatening to spill over. The last thing she was going to do was cry in this house. She wouldn't give Merle or Will Dixon the satisfaction. Rummaging around she managed to find what she was looking for. The power was off (if it had ever been hooked up in the first place) but Beth was pleased to find that the water was still running.

She went back into the living room, refusing to look directly at the man still sprawled in his recliner. Kneeling next to him she finally looked up hoping that she had managed to make her features as neutral as possible. “Give me your arm.”

Will Dixon peered down at her, his eyes glittering in the dim light. If Daryl was a house cat and Merle a stray, this man was a caged tiger. Years of alcohol abuse may have blown out his features making him soft and a bit saggy in the jaw and around the middle but there was still danger there. His eyes were still sharp, too aware. “I'm a dead man girl, ain't no use in patching up a ghost.”

“Arm,” she repeated firmly meeting his gaze. Beth made herself sit as still as possible, willed herself to not break eye contact even though every instinct in her was telling her to run for the door, get Daryl and go home. Go home to her own Daddy whose eyes were gentle and hands were kind.

He stretched out his arm towards her. Beth took and it and unwrapped the crusty flannel bandage. The bite wasn't deep but it was angry and weeping. His skin was hot and clammy under her cool hands. She started cleaning it as best she could. She had found an almost empty bottle of whiskey in the kitchen and she poured it over his arm hoping that it might flush out most of the grime and dirt that was packed in. The muscles in his arm bunched and strained but he didn't pull away. She could feel his gaze burning a hole through the top of her head as she carefully cleaned around the bitten area with a wet rag.

“Why you helpin' me?”

“I ain't. I'm helpin' Daryl.”

“Why? He ain't worth a damn. Always been soft.”

Beth didn't respond just ripped up another rag that she had found. It wasn't exactly clean but it was better then that piece of scrap he had had tied around there before. She didn't look up when she heard the front door open. From the corner of her eye she could see the edges of Daryl's boots come to a stop in front of them.

“Your girl's sweet on me son.” Beth tensed as she felt a heavy hand stroke the ends of her hair, making her shudder all the way down to the tips of her toes.

“Don't touch her.” Daryl's voice was low and gravely, laced with a hard edge that Beth had never heard before.

“Don't tell me what to do boy. I may be old but I can still take a strap to you.” The hand that had been stroking her hair suddenly constricted tugging her head to the side. Beth winced and quickly finished wrapping his arm, pulling the cloth a little too tightly, pressing down where she knew it would hurt. Will hissed in pain, releasing her hair. “You little...”

Beth darted away from the recliner, retreating to stand in front of Daryl who had taken several menacing steps in their direction. “All done,” she sung out.

Heavy silence stretched between all three of them, the air thick with unsaid words and actions.

“Get out,” the oldest Dixon whispered.

“You're welcome,” Beth sassed before she could help herself.

“Get out!” This time it was a bellow and Beth jumped backwards colliding with Daryl's chest. She turned and pushed him gently in the direction of the door. Daryl went, moving slowly but he moved.

Beth spun back to the living room. “Daryl's the best man I know. You don't deserve him, never did.”

“GET OUT!” A whiskey bottle came flying in her direction, shattering against the wall near her feet.

They went the screen door slamming behind them. Daryl pulled away and slid down to sit in front of the house, fishing for the pack of cigarettes in his pocket. Beth watched, a little hesitant to approach him, as he lit one, inhaled, and then exhaled slowly. After a few moments Beth went and sat next to him, tucking her knees up to her chest. She tucked her hands into her lap so that Daryl wouldn't see them tremble. It was quiet and the afternoon sun hung low in the sky. She could see Merle across the yard putting gas in both of their bikes. They didn't speak but Daryl didn't pull away when she leaned softly into him, dropping her head to rest on his shoulder. He shifted and wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer.

“I'm sorry,” Beth whispered.

He shrugged, stubbing out his cigarette. “Ain't got nothing to be sorry for.”

“I yelled at Merle and wasn't as kind to your Daddy as I shoulda been.”

Beth listened to his even breathing and the faint birdsong that was coming from the woods behind them. She felt heavy, exhaustion settling into her bones, rooting her to the ground and into his side. He was silent for a long stretch but then he spoke. “Merle can take care of himself, toughest son of a bitch I ever met. As for him inside, he's just a broken down devil. Nothin' good left in him, not there ever was. Never wanted you to see this place. Never forgive myself if he had hurt you.”

Beth hesitated not sure what to say. “He's family.”

“Nah.” He pulled her a little closer. She understood through that simple action that he was telling her that she was his family now. Her and Merle.

“Nothin' here defines you.”

“Yeah well I guess you gotta remind me sometimes.”

“You're a good man Daryl Dixon.” She pressed a soft kiss to his jawline, feeling his pulse jump under her lips. He turned and kissed her forehead and then tilted her chin up capturing her lips in a gentle kiss that made her own pulse soar. “I missed you.” she whispered. He hummed low in his throat in response and suddenly she was crying, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck, her face pressed into the crook of his neck as she sobbed. Everything that had happened: Eva, Mr. Park, the terrible lurching figures in the street, Will Dixon and his whiskey bottles, all of it swooped down on her rendering her speechless and shaking. Daryl held her tightly rubbing soothing circles on her back, which somehow only made her cry harder.

She pulled away looking at him with red rimmed eyes. “I'm sorry.”

Daryl shook his head, wiping a tear from her cheek with the pad of his thumb. “Stop apologizing' girl. Figure you got reason enough to cry. End of the world and all.”

“Do you really think it is? The end of the world?”

He shrugged. “Don't know, maybe not. Things could get sorted out.”

Beth swallowed hard, pulling away and settling back beside him, her shoulder pressed into his. She looked down, pushing at her bracelets. “Eva got bit. Mr Park... he changed and I hit with a baseball bat.” She fought hard to keep the sob out of her voice. “I killed him.”

Daryl was silent for another moment, his gaze settled on something far off across the yard. “Those things. They ain't people no more. I don't know what they are, but they ain't people. Only way to put em down is a blow to the head. Saw one take seven bullets to the chest and keep goin'. Most of Atlanta's overrun. You get bit, get scratched, your done for, that's all I know.”

Beth quickly wiped another tear from her face. She didn't want to cry. She wanted to be strong. “Hey.” Daryl turned to her, making her look him in the eye. “You didn't do nothin' wrong Beth.”

She nodded biting at her lip. “Eva was so scared.” She looked down, examining her knees, seeing dark purple bruises blooming through the rips in her jeans. “I'm so worried about Daddy and Maggie,” she whispered after a long pause.

Darly reached over and took her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “We'll leave for the farm in the morning.”

Beth shook her head. “We should stay.”

“Ain't gotta do that.”

“He's dying.”

“Ain't our problem.”

Beth hesitated but pressed on. “He shouldn't die alone.”

“Deserves it.”

“Yeah he does,” Beth agreed. “But Daryl that ain't who we are. Ain't who we're gonna be.”

They looked at each other for a long moment. Daryl reached up and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. She could see so many emotions playing out behind his eyes. Tenderness, love, confusion, worry, a flash of anger, respect, and finally resignation. “Alright Beth, we'll stay. See how it goes.”

 

...+++...

 

The next morning Beth found Merle around back digging through an old storage shed. They had all slept in the yard, making due with some musty smelling blankets that they had dragged outside. No one had felt like sleeping inside, not that there was much room beside the mountains of trash. They had eaten what they could find and had all taken turns keeping watch, Beth protesting when Daryl told her he would take her shift. When dawn broke Beth and Daryl had gone back into the house only to find Will passed out in the same recliner they had left him in. His forehead was hot and he mumbled in his sleep. His cheeks were gaunt and dark circles ringed his eyes. Beth hadn't known what to do for him so she had simply left a glass of water beside him. At this point none of them knew how long the fever would last of if it was even possible to recover from it.

Beth wandered towards Merle, eyeing the pile of junk he had unearthed from the shed. Didn't seem to be anything of much use. “Hey Merle. Got some food for you, ain't much.” Merle didn't answer just grunted. Beth shifted nervously. Her and Merle hadn't spoken much since their brief spat the afternoon before. He had ignored her for most of the night and for her part she had tried her best to be civil for Daryl's sake. “Your Daddy's not doin' so hot.”

“Like I give a shit,” he growled, not bothering to turn around.

Beth's temper, already stretched a little thin, snapped. “See that's the interesting thing, cause Daryl keeps sayin' the same, but here you both are anyways. Funny how that works.”

Merle turned and grabbed the plate of cold beans she was holding out to him, nearly knocking it out of her hands. He sat down heavily, leaning against the side of the shed.

Despite her better judgment, Beth went and sat next to him nervously pulling at the grass underneath her. She watched him out the corner of her eye, wondering when he was gonna yell at her or tell her to get lost.

“You got something to say to me girl, best spit it out,” he rumbled, shoveling beans into his mouth.

“Was it always so bad?” Beth blurted out. She felt like an idiot as soon as the words had tumbled out of her mouth. She hadn't any right to ask such a thing, but she was curious, always had been. When Merle didn't immediately blow up at her she let herself relax a bit, fingers still combing through the long grass at her feet.

Merle took a long time to respond and Beth was just about to give up and go back around front when he started talking. “Was always a mean son of a bitch that's for sure. When I was young and Daryl just a baby it wasn't so bad. Only got real riled up when he was drinkin'. Held a job then, had us a nice house on the other side a town. Drinkin' got worse though. Lost the job. Lost the house. Mama started drinkin' then too.” Merle stopped to consider, shrugged, and then continued. “Easier that way probably. We all started sportin' bruises but she got the worst of it. I left and she ended up burnin' herself up. Couldn't go back after that... even though... regret it some days.” Merle narrowed his eyes at her, studying her. “My baby brother always been the sweet one. Even then, could hardly swat a fly. Used to cry when we went hunting, till he got that beat out of him. You love him?”

“Yeah,” Beth whispered, eyes wide, still trying to process everything that Merle had just told her..

Merle shook his head, his brow furrowed in confusion. “You get dropped on the head as kid or somethin'?”

Beth laughed and got up brushing dirt from her jeans, flashing a smile down at him. “Glutton for punishment I guess.” She stood there for a minute, examining the toes of her boots. “It wasn't your fault you know,” she said softly.

Merle peered up at her, eyes narrowing dangerously. “What wasn't?”

“All the terrible things your Daddy did. That's not on you.”

“Never said it was.” He sniffed and looked away.

“Yeah okay,” Beth replied, angling her head, studying his profile.

“Go on get out of here. Go back round front and leave me be. Go nag my brother.” He still refused to look in her direction, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on the trees in the distance. Beth turned and left, pretending not to see the wetness that glistened in his eyes.

 

...+++...

 

Will Dixon passed in the evening, two days later. He never had a redeeming moment, never had that come to Jesus revelation that the dying sometimes did. Never asked his boys to forgive him or admitted his faults. He died with hate on his tongue and in his heart. No one was particularly surprised. Merle put a knife through his temple before he could turn.

They buried him in the backyard. Beth managed to cobble together a cross from a few two by fours she had found lying around the lot. She carved his name into it with Daryl's pocket knife. There were no words spoken and Beth did not sing.

Afterwards they all stood in the front yard gazing at the ramshackle old house. It looked deflated, it's dark windows empty eyes looking out into the night. Beth slipped her hand into Daryl's. “We should burn it down.”

Both brothers looked at her in surprise. Daryl smirked and squeezed her hand tighter.

“Didn't take you for no arsonist,” Merle quipped.

“We should though,” Beth repeated.

“Enough booze in there to blow it sky high,” Daryl remarked.

Merle shrugged, a rare smile threatening to turn up the corners of his mouth.

The men let Beth strike the match. The house erupted. Tongues of orange flame eagerly lapped up the sides of the building, a striking contrast to the inky darkness of the night sky. Light flickered and danced over the trios' faces as they watched the house crumple inwards in a flurry of sparks and creaking wood. After what seemed like an eternity Beth felt Daryl tug her backwards leading her to his bike. Merle followed closely behind them. With practiced kicks the bikes roared into life and they spun out into the night, fire hot on their backs. None of them looked back.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was very hard to write. I hope I managed to capture at least some small piece of the Dixon dynamic. Thank you for taking time to review. It helps to know that someone else is reading this! This has only been edited by me so please forgive any mistakes. Up next we finally meet some more familiar characters.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the reviews! They mean a lot! As always please forgive any editing mistakes!

Beth was bored. Bored stiff. Bored as heck. Bored at the end of the world. How's that for irony. The three of them are sitting in the middle of the highway. Beth cross legged, scooting tiny pebbles of asphalt back and forth with her fingers. Daryl is sitting nearby calmly cleaning his crossbow and Merle is still perched on his bike, blue eyes fixed on the sea of cars in front of them. She knows if he turns around he'll see another sea spread out behind them, reaching all the way back to Atlanta. They were thoroughly stuck.

They had made good time at first, sticking to back roads and side streets, avoiding going through the heart of the city as they made their way south. None of them thought that it was particularly good idea to get on the highway but after hitting a series of roadblocks and seeing more walkers then they wanted to tangle with they hadn't much of a choice. And now here they are. Stuck. Even the bikes couldn't weave themselves around this jam. Riding up the median wasn't an option, it was just as full of cars and people as the main lanes. They could go off road but it would certainly tear up the bikes if they had to do it all the way to the farm and no one could tell them just how big this pile up was.

Beth sighed. She knew she was reaching the limit of the Dixon brothers' patience. Daryl loves her and she is pretty sure that Merle might sort of kind of like her in his own way, but the two men could only take so many hours of playing I Spy and I Never, especially when all their nerves had already been stretched to the breaking point. She had managed to comb all the tangles out of her hair with her fingers and twist it into a loose braid. Daryl had fished a piece of wire out of his pocket so that she could tie it off. She had even tried writing in her journal just to break the monotony but she had found herself at a loss. All the words she tried to use seemed to pale in comparison to the actual events of the last few days. It all seemed so ridiculous.

 

_Dear Diary,_

_This might be the end of the world. The dead are rising up and trying to bite people. I killed my neighbor with a baseball bat after he tore my roommates throat out. Me, Daryl, and Merle burnt down their Daddy's house. Gosh what a crazy couple of days._

_Love Beth._

 

It sounded stupid enough in her own head, let alone written down on the neatly lined pages staring up at her. She had put her journal away rather quickly.She was restless. She wanted to go home. She wanted to make sure her Daddy and Maggie were all right. She _really_ wanted to take a shower and she _really_ didn't want to think anymore about what had happened in the last week. If she replayed the scene in her apartment in her head one more time she felt like she would explode. She needed a distraction, something to keep her busy. Something to stop the splashes of red that splattered against the back of her eyelids every time she closed her eyes.

Beth sighed again, turning her gaze to the man sitting next to her. Daryl was still polishing his crossbow, rubbing the black metal till it gleamed in the sunlight. He had an unlit cigarette hanging from his mouth, working it up and down between his lips. He was dirty and his hair was stuck to his face with sweat but lord of he was handsome. Even now the sight of him still caused butterflies to erupt inside her rib-cage and warmth to pool in her belly. Sometimes she still couldn't believe that Daryl Dixon was her boyfriend. It still seemed surreal. She didn't even think boyfriend was the best word to describe what he was too her. He was more important then just a boyfriend. He was better than that. Some days though, she still couldn't believe she could hold his hand or kiss him whenever she wanted... couldn't believe she could run her hands up his arms or that he would...

“Beth,” his rough voice cut through her thoughts.

Beth blinked, startled out of her thoughts. “Yeah?”

Daryl quirked an eyebrow at her. “You starin' at me for a reason?”

She shook her head, warmth blossoming in her cheeks.

“Nothin' on your mind then?”

“I dunno,” she whispered studying the tips of her boots, the blush rising all the way to the top of her head.

“You dunno what's on your mind?” Daryl looked a little incredulous. If he was sure of one thing in this world it was that Beth Greene rarely ran out of things to talk about.

“Well,” she scooted a little closer to him. “I could tell you a few things.” Her lips brushed his ear and she felt him shiver. Her hand crept over to his upper thigh.

“Beth,” Daryl practically growled, clamping his hand over hers. “Not sure now is the time... or the place.”

“Hey if you two are gonna give me a show at least make it interesting.”

Beth rolled her eyes, pulling away from Daryl and shooting a glare over at Merle who was staring at them a wolfish grin spreading across on his face.

“Get bent, Merle,” she replied sweetly.

Merle held up his hands in mock surrender chuckling.

Beth huffed and got up. “I'm goin' for a walk.” Daryl looked up at her in concern. “I won't go far I promise. I just need to stretch my legs or something.”

Daryl nodded slowly. “Stay within shoutin' distance.”

Beth nodded, giving him a little smile and took off weaving her way slowly thorough the packed together cars. There were people everywhere, some camped in the road like them and some still inside their vehicles. Up ahead she could see the back of an older tan and white RV parked next to a small hatchback with a pizza delivery sign strapped to the top.

An Asian man in a red baseball cap was sitting on top of the hatchback talking to a girl with strawberry blonde hair who looked to be about Beth's age. “Hey,” Beth said warmly stopping in front of them. She rapped her knuckles gently on the hood of the car. “Suppose you're all out of pizza.”

The man smiled at her. “Fresh out.”

“My luck holds then,” Beth replied giving them both sunny smiles. “I'm Beth,” she declared holding out her hand.

“Glenn,” the man replied shaking her hand. He gestured to the girl that was sitting next to him who gave Beth a little wave. “This is Amy.”

“Hey,” Beth chimed, taking Amy's hand as well. “You guys been on the road long?”

Glenn nodded, his gaze shifting to the shining cars stacked up in front of them. “Couple of days. We seem to move forward a mile or so every couple of hours.” He shrugged. “Ain't much but I suppose it's something. People keep abandoning their cars, backs up traffic when others have to stop and move em out of the way. ”

“Yeah, makes sense,” Beth replied.

“Where are you headed?” Amy asked.

“Oh my family's gotta farm about an hour south of here. Just tryin' to get home. What about you two?”

Glenn shrugged, his forehead creasing. “Not sure. All my family's out west, just hopped in my car and started drivin' once I saw what was happenin' in the city. Heard the army was starting to set up refugee camps though.”

“We don't' really have a plan either,” Amy responded. “My sister Andrea was taking me back to school when all this started. Our car broke down and Dale picked us up.”

“Dale?” Beth asked.

“Oh he's the one with the RV,” Amy replied gesturing at the big camper. The RV's door swung open an older man in a fisherman's hat and a Hawaiian shirt emerged followed by an older blonde woman with eyes the same aqua color as Amy's. “Hey guys this is Beth.”

Beth gave the duo a friendly wave. She liked them all right away, her mood brightening as they stood chatting in the sun. Dale was a bit goofy, Glenn was funny, and Andrea certainly came off as no nonsense but there was a warmth in her eyes that set Beth at ease. Amy reminded her of herself in a lot of ways and she could tell if they ever got the chance they would be fast friends. She began to think about asking them all to come down to the farm. They didn't seem to have anywhere else to go and Beth knew that the farm would be a better alternative to the vague promise of a refugee camp.

“I should get back,” she said peering back the way she had come. She hadn't been gone for much more than half an hour but she knew Daryl would come looking for her before too much longer and she wanted his opinion about asking her new acquaintances to follow her home. She wasn't sure he'd like the idea.

“Aww you should stay,” Amy cried. “We could play cards or something and I was about to break out my stash of M&M's!”

Beth stomach rumbled loudly in response and both girls laughed. “All right let me just go back and...”

“Beth.”

Beth turned to see Daryl standing behind her. His crossbow was strapped to his back and his hunting knife was sheathed at his hip. He looked tense, his blue eyes sharp, studying the group she was talking too. “Daryl!” Beth cried giving him a bright smile, pulling him forward towards the rest of the group. She quickly made a round of introductions. Everyone was quiet, the carefree chatter grinding to a halt. Andrea was staring at Daryl openly a frown on her face as she took in his weapons, the grime on his face and arms, and his cut off shirt covered by his leather cut.

“Well,” Beth said nervously shifting from one foot to the other as the group openly stared at them. “We better get back. It was real nice meeting y'all.”

Andrea stepped forward, her eyes fixed on Daryl. “If you need a ride somewhere Beth we'd be more then happy to take you.”

“She's gotta ride,” Daryl replied stonily.

Andrea opened her mouth to reply but Beth cut her off. “I'll be just fine, but thanks for the offer.” She laced her fingers through Daryl's tugging him backwards.

Beth and Daryl started walking back towards the bikes. Beth gave his hand a little squeeze. “They were nice.”

Daryl grunted.

“They were,” Beth said softly, glancing over at his profile.

He shook his head. “That blonde thought she had my number soon as I walked up. Looked at me like I was trash.”

Beth frowned. She knew Andrea had probably meant well, but it still irked her when people judged Daryl so openly. She bit her lip considering, “She was just looking out. I think I remind her of her sister.”

Daryl snorted in response.

Beth pulled him off the road, climbing over the guardrail and walking down the deep dip where the road dropped away till they were both shielded from view. “Besides Mr. Dixon,” she teased saddling up to him. “We know the truth.”

He smirked. “And what's the truth then?”

She wrapped her arms around his neck. “You're just a big old teddy bear, heart of gold.”

“I ain't nobody's teddy bear,” Daryl growled down at her.

“Big old softie,” Beth purred.

“I ain't soft neither.” He tightened his grip on her, pressing her firmly into his chest.

“Prove it,” Beth murmured, tracing his ear with her lips, twining her fingers into his hair.

His lips crashed down on hers and Beth let herself be swept out from shore, losing herself in the sensation of his mouth hot and insistent against her own. His hands were drifting lower up under the edge of her shirt, large hands warm and rough on the skin of her back. She nipped at his lower lip and slid her tongue across his. Delicious warmth was spreading through her limbs, pulsing out from her center in lazy golden waves.

She never ever wanted to stop kissing Daryl Dixon but part of her (a quickly shrinking part) was all to aware that they were standing on the side of a highway and Merle was probably skulking around close by. The last thing she wanted was to be interrupted by the older Dixon, especially if things kept going the way they were going. She reached down and stopped the slide of his hands just as his fingers brushed the underside of her breasts, breaking away from his lips to inhale a great gulp of cool spring air.

“Daryl,” she whispered, trying to catch her breath.

“Hmmm?” He was tracing her jawline with his mouth, making her shudder all the way down to the tips of her toes.

“Where's Merle?”

“Don't really want to discuss my brother right now,” Daryl replied, dropping a soft line of kisses down her throat. She sighed leaning into him, savoring the heat of his lips, before she remembered once again where they were.

“Daryl,” she repeated firmly, pressing her hands flat against his chest, pushing away from him just a little.

He sighed pulling back from her, but not letting her go. “He went to scout ahead. Saw a sign a while back that we were coming up on a quarry, thought there might be some sort of access road to get us around this mess.”

“What'll we do if there isn't?”

Daryl shrugged. “Might have to leave the bikes, come back for em later, walk the rest of the way maybe.”

Beth frowned. “What if we went back through the city and around?”

“Don't think we'd have enough gas, might leave us stranded even farther out then we intended.”

“It's near forty miles to the farm.”

“Take us a few days sure but we'd make it. Hunt for food along the way.” Daryl gave the end of her braid a little tug. “Give you those tracking lessons you're always nagging me about.”

“I don't nag!” Beth cried.

“Mmmm,” Daryl replied, his eyes twinkling.

Beth swatted at him, grinning. “I don't!” He flashed her a rare smile. She pulled herself back into him, pressing her lips against his and giggling as his hands fluttered across her sides.

“Hey Beth!”

Daryl and Beth jumped apart as Amy appeared at the top of the drop off that had been hiding them from view. Beth could see Glenn's nervous face hovering behind her.

“Oh lord I'm sorry!” Amy called out, cheeks flushing pink. “I didn't mean to interrupt.”

“No it's okay,” Beth responded climbing a little ways back up the hill, Daryl trailing behind her. “We were just talking.” She shot Daryl a grin which widened when the tips of his ears turned a bit red. Glenn snorted and Daryl shot him an icy glare that had him taking a step backwards. “Did ya need something Amy?”

Amy dropped her gaze, studying her sneakers. “Well no not really. I just wanted to apologize for my sister. She can be...” Amy faltered gesturing hopelessly with a shrug of her shoulders.

“A bit of a bitch?” Daryl grumbled.

“Well I wouldn't go that far,” Amy burst out, snapping her head up to narrow her eyes at Daryl. “She's just a bit over protective is all.”

“It's okay really Amy,” Beth soothed. “We understand, don't we Daryl?” She prodded Daryl with her elbow and he managed to grunt in response.

“Do you guys wanna come back? We could play games or just talk and we have plenty to eat, we could share.”

Beth looked over at Daryl who hesitated and then shrugged. “Up to you.”

Beth beamed at him and then turned back to Amy. “Yeah sure we'll be right up!”

 

...+++...

 

Amy, Glenn, Dale, and Beth sat in a circle on the pavement playing Blackjack. It was the only game they all knew how to play. Andrea was sitting on the RV's steps reading a book in the shade of the doorway. Daryl was sitting with his back against the RV's front tire, his long legs stretched out in front of him, sharpening his knife. Beth laughed and threw her cards down. “I'm terrible at this game.”

“You just gotta know when to take a risk,” Glenn chuckled, reshuffling the deck.

“You're not doing much better,” Beth teased. All of them laughed. It was true Amy was soundly schooling them all.

“Think of how I feel, getting pummeled by a bunch of college kids,” Dale joked.

Beth stood, uncurling herself from the pavement to stretch out the kinks in her back. They had been playing for a couple of hours and the sun was hanging low in the sky. Traffic hadn't budged all day and Merle had yet to return from his scouting expedition. She smiled at the trio in front of her. “Think I'm gonna sit the next round out.” They all nodded and Glenn tossed her a stick of beef jerky, grinning at her as she caught it in mid air.

“This my winnings?” she teased.

“You're a rich woman,” Glenn laughed.

Beth grinned at him and turned to sit next to Daryl as the others continued their game. She broke the jerky in two and offered him half. “You worried about Merle?”

Daryl snorted, taking the jerky. “Merle can take care of himself.”

“Yeah.” Beth let her head rest against his shoulder, doing her best to ignore Andrea who she could feel watching them from the corner of her eye. “He's been gone awhile, starting to get worried.”

“Don't think Merle's too used to anyone worrying about him.”

“Well you worry about him,” Beth responded simply, knowing it to be true. Daryl leaned over pressing a swift kiss to the top of her head. She smiled. PDA was not a Dixon forte, and even that tiny act, carried out in front of other people, served to show her just how much he loved her. Beth let her eyes flutter close, her body resting comfortably against Daryl's. It was warm and muggy sitting on the pavement, even with the helpful shade of the camper's awning. Maybe she would sleep for just a little while.

 

...+++...

 

“Beth! Beth you gotta wake up!” Beth opened her eyes. Daryl was standing over her shaking her shoulder. It was evening and she could hear panicked screaming in the distance. “Get up Beth.” He grabbed her arm and hauled her to feet. People were running past them, most of them laden down with whatever they could carry.

“What's happening?” Beth cried now wide awake. Adrenaline was starting to course through her veins, making her heart pound painfully in her chest.

“Walkers!” She looked up to see Glenn standing on top of the RV pointing behind them.

A frantic man ran buy nearly knocking Beth over in his haste. Daryl grabbed her before she hit the pavement, roughly setting her upright, his expression grim. He picked up his crossbow and started pushing Beth towards the edge of the highway. “Come on we'll make for the woods, lose em in the trees.”

Beth whirled back around as she heard a bloodcurdling scream ring out behind her. She watched horrified as a walker, what had used to be just a man in a business suit, lurched out from behind the RV, latching onto Amy's arm. The girl tried to pull away but she wasn't strong enough.

“Amy!” Andrea jumped on the walker pulling it backwards and away from her sister. The creature turned on Andrea, it's jaws snapping inches from her face.

“Andrea!” Dale rushed forward swinging a golf club, a look of pure determination on his face.

An arrow sprouted from the walker's eye, dropping it cleanly to the ground. “You best start up that camper old man!” Daryl yelled at Dale who was staring at the dead walker dumbfounded. Daryl was already reloading his crossbow.

Dale swallowed hard and nodded, scurrying into the vehicle. It roared to life with a throaty rumble. Amy helped Andrea up and pulled her inside.

“There's a lot more coming!” Glenn yelled, panic echoing in his voice.

Beth bit back a scream as another walker closed in on them. This one was a woman, half of her face was missing, revealing two rows of bloody teeth bared in a ghoulish grin. Daryl lifted his crossbow, finger on the trigger. Beth jumped backwards startled as the woman's head exploded with a loud bang, splattering her shirt with sticky gore.

“Hey baby brother!” Merle yelled stepping up from the side of the road shotgun in hand. “Time to hit the road!”

Daryl grabbed Beth and maneuvered her towards Merle, pushing her ahead of them. Her ears rang as Merle fired again, covering their backs.

“I got my bike,” Merle bellowed as they scrambled over the guardrail. “Don't think it's too good of an idea to go back for yours.” They all turned looking at the steady stream of walkers that were advancing on them. Beth's stomach sank. “Found that access road not half a mile up a head. Leads down into a quarry, might be a good place to hole up.”

Daryl nodded, his lips set into a firm line. “Take her on the bike. I'll follow on foot.”

Beth turned on him, hysteria bubbling up in her throat. “No! I ain't gonna leave you!”

“Fuck Beth don't argue! Just get on the bike!”

Merle was already revving the engine. He turned back, “You comin' Blondie or you to busy bein' stupid!”

“Beth go!” Daryl gave her a gentle push forward.

“What about the others!” She glanced back at the RV. Glenn was still on top of it yelling down at Dale in the driver's seat, pointing over at them. Panicked people were still running by, some clearly wounded, some dragging others who were. Her heart ached as she saw a mother limp past them carrying a small child who was wailing loudly. The majority of the herd would be there at any moment.

“Beth go!” Daryl yelled pushing her forward again, turning back to fire a bolt at a walker who had stumbled into the guardrail. It's body toppled over the thin barrier of metal and rolled down the little hill landing at their feet. He leaned over plucking his bolt from it's head with a grunt. “I'll be fine!”

“I don't like to be kept waitin'!” Merle yelled.

Beth bit her lip torn, but ultimately she ran towards Merle throwing herself behind him. She would only slow Daryl down if she stayed. She barely had time to hang on before they started to move forward. The bike wasn't meant for off-roading and every bump jarred painfully up her spine.

Beth twisted to look behind them as she heard a loud crash. The RV had managed to turn itself on the road and crash into Glenn's hatchback, pushing it out of the way. It rumbled towards the guardrail, thin metal twisting under the heavy weight of the camper. For one terrifying second she thought the RV would flip over as it rumbled over the edge of the road, but it managed to bottom out. It turned to follow her and Merle on the bike. The side door flew open and Beth watched with relief as she saw Andrea hold out a hand for Daryl who ran forward and jumped in, metal door slamming shut behind him.

A few more cars followed the RV's broken path until there was a tiny caravan following behind them. The ride smoothed out a little as they hit the packed down dirt of the access road and started traveling downwards. The screams from the highway were becoming more distant, only flashes and echoes of the pain and carnage they had left behind. Beth closed her eyes and held on to Merle as tightly as she dared. When was this nightmare going to end?

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this took longer then planned. I think I rewrote it three times and then I had to split it in two because it was so long. Good news is that the next chapter is already half way written! Thank you for the reviews!

The sun sat high in the sky, bright and intense above the cloudless horizon. Beth closed her eyes, tilting her face up to catch the golden rays. She floated flat on her back, hovering in the clear water of the quarry lake. It was quiet, the only sound was the water lapping gently around her ears and the muffled splashes of Amy and Andrea closer to shore. Sighing in contentment she let the warm water and the hot sun slowly ease the tension out of her muscles. A few of the women had found this spot a few days ago and now they all used it for bathing. A screen of trees and an outcropping of rock shielded them from the camp. The little inlet was close enough to be safe but far enough away to provide a least a sense of privacy.

They had been at the quarry nearly three weeks. Others had followed then down the steep access road on the night of the attack and still more had found them in the days following. All told they had ended up with nearly thirty people in their camp. The quarry was a good spot. It was set deep enough into the earth that sound couldn't carry beyond the massive walls of stone that rose up around them. The base of the quarry bottomed out into a lake that provided them with fresh water and fresh fish and Daryl had been able to find plenty of small game in the surrounding woods.

Of course they had never planned to stay as long as they had. The first couple of days they had lingered because they were reluctant to return to the highway. None of them knew how long the horde would take to pass and no one was eager to experience that kind of terror again. Even in those early days of camping Beth had been anxious to get to the farm and neither Dixon had been keen on having so many people packed in around them.

 

But then the planes had come.

 

It had been mid morning and Beth had been packing up their things. They had been planning on swinging back to the highway to retrieve Daryl's bike and then head on to the farm. Everyone in camp had looked up mouths agape as the fleet of fighter jets buzzed over them. It was almost surreal. They planes flew low in the sky, straight and with purpose, slim noses pointed towards Atlanta. The camp was sheltered by the quarry but they all had heard the explosions. Bomb after bomb after bomb. The water in the lake rippled as the earth shuddered and groaned under the impact, shock waves running out from the city. When thick black plumes of smoke started rising over the horizon she hadn't been able to choke back her sob. Even with Beth's keen longing for home they had been reluctant to leave after that.

A week later food and had begun to run low. Even with the rabbits and squirrels Daryl was bringing in they hadn't had enough to sustain thirty people. Glenn had volunteered to start making runs, scout out what was happening in the city. Sometimes others went with him but Glenn was the fastest. He knew nearly every road in and out, backwards and forwards. Being a delivery driver had it's distinct advantages. The reports the runners brought back were grim. The city was in ruins, blackened and charred, overrun with the dead. Most of the stores had been looted or destroyed, hardly a surprise.

Beth tried to keep busy around the camp, building up fires, cooking, doing laundry, but in all honesty she spent most of her time worrying. She worried about her Daddy and Maggie, Patricia, and Otis on the farm. She worried about Merle's bag of pills that he didn't try to hide and she worried about the fresh bruises on Carol Peletier's upper arms and back. The woman tried to cover them up but Beth would catch glimpses. Her daughter Sophia didn't sport the same marks but her skittishness around strangers wasn't encouraging. She knew Daryl had noticed and she worried about that as well. No one in camp liked Ed Peletier. The man was brash, rude, and cruel. He reminded her an awful lot of Will Dixon and she knew both Dixon brothers saw the resemblance. Merle pretended not to care but she saw how his fists clenched at his sides each time Ed raised his voice to his wife or daughter. Daryl avoided the situation entirely spending most of his time in the woods or hovering over her own shoulder, keeping his distance from the Peletiers. She wasn't sure how to best to broach the subject with him so she let it lie, but she did notice that he always made sure both Sophia and Carol had enough to eat.

She also spent a good deal of time worrying about the sadness in Lori Grime's eyes. The grief seemed strongest when Beth caught her playing with the set of wedding rings hung around her slim neck. Lori Grimes was generous and level headed, two qualities her Daddy had taught her to never take for granted. Beth genuinely liked the woman, thinking at times she reminded her of her own Mamma. She liked Carl Grimes just as much. He was energetic and curious and she could see that he and Sophia were becoming fast friends.

Beth wasn't so sure about Shane Walsh. Lori always seemed a bit sadder when he was around even if they were always sneaking off into the woods while Beth or Amy kept an eye on Carl. Frankly she could have done without the man. He was bossy and more then a little self righteous but she had to admit that he cared about Lori and Carl. He was practically good with Carl, always patient and even funny at times. But something about the man set Beth's teeth on edge. Daryl said it was because he was unpredictable and she agreed. His flashes of temper were brief but unsettling.

There was certainly no love lost between Shane and the Dixon brothers. He had arrived at camp the morning after the disaster on the highway, climbing out his car and flashing his badge, declaring himself de facto leader nearly as soon as his boots hit the dirt. He had taken one look at the Merle and Daryl and passed judgment. Merle had spat in the ground at his feet and commented that he didn't need some self righteous rookie telling him what to do. Daryl had stepped in before any punches were thrown but it had been far from an optimistic beginning.

Beth worried about walkers the most though. Some of the camp members were calling them the infected, like they were gonna get better. Some of them were refusing to kill them, saying the government would find a cure, that they could be healed. Daryl had scoffed and Beth had felt like doing the same. They weren't sick. Having your arm ripped off or your guts dragging on the ground wasn't fixable.

“Beth!”

Beth shook herself from her reverie and righted herself, her arms treading water. Amy was waving at her. She could see Andrea pulling on her shorts in the background.

“We're going back soon! You comin'?” Amy yelled. Beth waved back and swam towards the shore.

Her feet hit the lake bottom and she started wading towards the beach, the water lapping at her hips. Andrea was dressed and Amy was pulling on her t-shirt, grabbing up Beth's old flannel to hold out to her as she stepped from the water. Beth jumped, startled when she heard an alarmed shout from the wooded area in front of her. Ed Peletier stumbled from the treeline nearly falling as he tripped over a gnarled root. Beth's exposed skin erupted into goosebumps and her hand automatically went to her hip where the hunting knife Daryl made her carry was usually strapped. Of course it wasn't there now. She was only wearing her bra and panties and she was thanking her lucky stars that she hadn't chosen to go swimming completely naked like the other two women had. She didn't fancy fighting off walkers in her birthday suit. Dashing forward onto the beach she grabbed the shirt that Amy was still holding out to her, throwing it on. The flannel was one of Daryl's and fell to mid thigh. She pulled it closed and grabbed the knife off her jeans. Andrea was already holding up her pistol, aiming for the trees. Ed was still backing away, eyes on the trees in front of him. Beth cringed. Even from a distance she could smell the liquor on him. Holding herself ready she prepared to face whatever had chased Ed to the edge of the lake.

Her mouth dropped open as Daryl stalked out of the underbrush, his eyes laser focused on Ed who was still retreating, hands in the air. He had his crossbow out and leveled at the man, a brace of squirrels hanging from his back. “Daryl what's goin' on?” Beth shouted taking a few steps forward confused.

Daryl gestured angrily, lowering his bow just a bit. “This pervert's been peepin' from the trees. Had himself a nice comfy spot too, bottle of booze, pack of smokes. Enjoyin' the show Ed?”

“I was just keepin' watch,” Ed managed to grind out. He had retreated as far as he could go. Lake water was lapping at his feet.

Beth could feel the heat creeping up her face and she knew Amy's cheeks were just as pink as her own. Andrea had lowered her gun but her blue eyes were narrowed dangerously, locked on the big man in front of her.

“Give me one good reason I shouldn't turn you into walker chow.” Daryl growled, lowering his bow further and stepping right up the man, pushing his body into the other man's space.

Ed swallowed hard, his meaty fists clenched at his sides. Beth could tell the man was scared but he was also stupid, stubborn, and drunk. He wasn't going to back down. “You ain't the boss of me redneck. I told you I was keepin' watch! Someone's gotta keep an eye on your pretty piece of...”

Ed didn't manage to get another word out. Beth watched stunned as Andrea ran right up to the bigger man, pushed Daryl away and socked Ed in the nose. Blood immediately started flowing as Ed howled in pain, clutching his face and stumbling away.

Andrea shook out her hand and turned without a word, stalking back towards the main camp. Amy chased after her a second later.

All the commotion, especially Ed's wailing had alerted the camp and people were starting to filter in through the trees. Beth could see Carol and Sophia near the back of the crowd their faces pale and drawn. Her heart ached for them.

Daryl was still staring daggers at Ed who was cradling his nose, blood streaming out from under his fingers. “Fuckin' pussy,” Daryl spat, kicking a few rocks towards the bleeding man. Beth was already pulling on her jeans, embarrassment fading quickly, when Daryl turned to her. “You okay?” he asked her quietly.

“Mmmmhmmm,” Beth hummed. She looked over at Ed who had sat down head pressed into his knees. The man was despicable but she couldn't say she was surprised. Though she felt vaguely violated, there were more important things to think about at the moment. Carol and Sophia were now hovering nearby but most of the other campers had started to wander away once they realized the show was over.

Beth grabbed Daryl's hand leading him down the beach a little ways so that they could barely hear Ed's muttered curses. “We should probably try and help him,” Beth whispered. “At least find something to stop the bleeding.”

Daryl shook his head, brow still furrowed in anger. “That asshole ain't worth it.”

“It's not him I'm worried about,” Beth replied softly glancing back at Sophia who was clearly trying to keep from crying, tears glistening in her big brown eyes.

Daryl shook his head again, his eyes wary and a little sad as he watched Carol try to tend to her bleeding husband. The man kept pushing her away, snapping at her whenever she came near. He turned back to Beth, his mouth set into a firm line. “We're leaving tomorrow. I don't want you around this shit. Shoulda left days ago.”

Beth bit her lip. She longed for the farm but they had no idea what kind of shape Daryl's bike was in. She was nervous about leaving the group, it didn't feel right to leave Amy, Andrea, and Lori behind. She liked Dale and Glenn as well and even though she couldn't stand Ed, leaving Carol and Sophia on their own didn't sit right with her. “We can't just leave them,” she declared.

Daryl sighed, running his hand down in his face in frustration. “You wanna take everyone to your Daddy's farm? _All_ of them? The _whole_ camp.”

She only hesitated a moment before replying, “Yeah. It's the right thing to do. Daddy'll understand. They'll be more space there, maybe we can spread out some.”

Daryl sighed again and cupped her cheek in his palm, tracing his thumb over her cheekbone. She leaned into his hand, smiling up at him. “You're too good Beth,” he murmured.

“Ain't no such thing,” she responded brightly, leaning up and pressing her lips against his scruffy cheek. “Come on.” Taking his hand she dragged him back towards the main camp. “Let's find somethin' for that _asshole's_ nose and then we'll talk to the others. Let 'em know they're welcome to come with us.”

 

 

...+++...

 

Beth cracked open her eyes. Weak morning sunlight was filtering in through the vents in the top of their tent. Daryl was asleep next to her his palm flat and heavy on her stomach; warm breath tickling the hairs at the base of her neck. She couldn't hear Merle's snoring from the other side of the small space so she figured he most of have already gotten up. Unfortunately for the entire camp Merle snored louder than a chainsaw with just as much sputtering. She rubbed wearily at her eyes, the back of her eyelids heavy, scratchy like sandpaper. Daryl shifted, his hand hooking around her waist, pulling her close. She smiled and let herself snuggle deeper into her sleeping bag enjoying the silence of the morning.

“Hey baby brother! Blondie! Rise and shine assholes!” Merle's voice sounded outside of the tent, causing Beth to sigh heavily.

Daryl groaned into her neck, cracking open his eyes to peer at her. He gave her a sleepy smile and she smiled back, leaving over and pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Mornin'”

“Mornin,” he rumbled, kissing her shoulder. She loved moments likes this. Tiny bits of time where it was just him and her.

“I ain't gonna tell you two again,” Merle shouted. Something thumped against the door of the tent bouncing against the taut plastic. He was chucking stones at them. Merle Dixon was a toddler in a leather vest.

Daryl groaned and sat up, unzipping the tent and sticking his head out. A rock came flying right by him, whizzing its way into the back of the tent. “Fuck off Merle!” Daryl yelled.

“Don't like my wake up calls? Complain to management,” the older man howled, laughter in his voice.

Daryl zipped up the door and turned back to Beth. She was already up and standing, stretching the kinks out her back. “Rise and shine,” she said sweetly, mimicking Merle.

The corner of Daryl's mouth turned up in a smile as he stood and pulled gently on the braid in her hair, leaning in to kiss her. Another rock bounced against the tent door and Beth reluctantly broke away. “Think I am gonna complain to management,” Daryl grumbled.

Beth laughed and pulled on a t-shirt over her tank top, searching for a pair of socks. Yesterday she had pulled aside many of the camp members, telling them about the plan to head to her family farm. Almost all of them had been willing to come. Only a few family units had been reluctant but Beth had assured them that they all were welcome if they changed their minds. Amy, Andrea, and Dale had been the first to agree to accompany them followed quickly by Shane, Lori and Glenn. They had all decided that they would leave in two days. Daryl wanted to go hunting one more time, range out further and try to find bigger game to sustain them. Beth would go with Daryl while Merle and a few others would make a run into the city and gather as many supplies as they could before they all attempted the forty mile trip to the farm. Pulling on her boots, she started rolling up her sleeping bag. Daryl did the same.

Beth was looking forward to going out in the woods. She had been stuck in the camp the whole time. At first because Daryl said it was too dangerous for her to go with him and also because neither of them felt comfortable leaving Merle on his own. Between sharing a tent with Merle and having to stick around camp just so he didn't shove his foot in his mouth and start a fight they had had little time to themselves. Beth almost envied Lori her time sneaking off with Shane. At least it was a release.

Beth stuffed what she thought she would need into her back pack and stepped out of the tent. People were just starting to wake up, stoking campfires back into life and putting water on to boil. She could see Dale perched on top of the RV, shot gun in is lap. Beth walked around the back of the tents to relieve herself and then wandered over to where Amy was sitting. Smiling she took the bowl of oatmeal the other girl offered her. The group that was headed into Atlanta were already gathering by the cars. Beth pushed back a brief flash of worry when she saw that T-Dog and Glenn were going. There was little love lost between those two and Merle. Merle's mouth was going to get him into trouble and Beth worried that she or Daryl wouldn't be there to act as a buffer for him. Not that Merle didn't actually need a good kick in the ass she mused.

Beth looked over and saw Daryl emerge from the tent. He leaned over and loaded his bow, his biceps flexing in the dappled sunlight. Beth big her lip as her stomach flipped. “Ow,” she cried softly as Amy pushed a sharp elbow into her side.

“Wish I had a man with those kind of arms,” Amy teased. “Is his...”

“Amy!” Beth swatted at her friends leg, blushing. Both girls collapsed in giggles. Beth tried to catch her breath as Daryl came up to them.

“You ready?” he asked, throwing a confused glance at Amy who was still chuckling.

“Yeah, but you should eat something.” Beth handed over what was left of her oatmeal, rolling her eyes when Daryl squatted beside her and dug into it with his fingers. She gave his shoulder a light push. “There's a spoon!”

“Like it like this,” he rumbled scooping up an even bigger scoop of oatmeal and shoving it his mouth, his eyes sparkling up at her.

“How'd I get so lucky,” Beth swooned throwing a hand over her forehead.

Daryl shrugged, the corner of mouth twitching up. “Beats me.”

“You two know when ya'll be back?” Amy asked.

Daryl shrugged again, finishing his oatmeal. “Could be today if we find somethin' straight off. Tomorrow if we don't.”

Amy nodded. “Well take care. Bring me back a vanilla shake and about three pounds of french fries.”

Beth laughed and stood up. “We weren't plannin' on stoppin' at the drive-thru, but for you we'll make an exception,” she teased. A burst of static erupted from near the RV and Beth turned to see Dale fiddling with the CB radio that had been silent for as long as they had been at the quarry. “You think that thing's ever gonna work?”

“Doubt it,” Daryl stood and slung his crossbow over his shoulder. “You ready Greene?”

“Mmmmhmm.” Beth shouldered her pack, turning to wave goodbye to Amy as they stepped into the woods. “Today's the day Mr. Dixon,” she sung at him. “Today you're finally gonna teach me how to hunt.”

“Guess all that naggin' finally paid off then,” Daryl replied, trying and failing to keep a straight face as Beth swatted at him, their quiet laughter echoing through the trees.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up. Hunting, maybe some smut, and Rick Grimes. In that order.


End file.
